A Little Night Music & Stay, Don't Go
by theD'Urberville
Summary: After an action sprung from friendship develops into something more, Harry begins to realize that the girl he used to consider just his friend might actually be so much more than that. Harry/Hermione One-shot soon to be Two-Shot
1. A Little Night Music

**Not J.K. Rowling, so I do not own these characters, just pushing them in a different direction than she intended. Hope you like it!**

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The night was bitter cold and black, no stars. Harry slung his arms around himself, tucking his hands close to his chest to warm them. It was just another night, another night of camping out in the middle of nowhere, no leads, no Ron. Sighing, he gave up staring into nothing and made his way back into the tent.

From the outside, it looked small. A two person, run-of-the-mill canvas tent with a pitched roof, but once inside, the magic behind it was revealed in the form of a cozy, a multi-room living space, a table in one area, bedrooms in another. It was comfortable with the three of them, but, now that it was just him and Hermione, Harry felt the oddness of it. Suddenly there was more space. It felt emptier. But entering it now, stepping into the soft, golden light that issued from the one lantern they had, Harry saw the comfort in it. It felt almost natural, and that seemed somehow wrong.

But Ron had been gone enough that it was almost as if he had never been there. The only reminder was the look on Hermione's face as she went about the tent, went about life, now. It made Harry want to hug her, tight to his chest, reassure her that it was going to be alright – but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Hermione sat, knees to her chest, closest to the light, staring into space, the faint crackle of sound from the radio making no impression on her. It was just the two of them, alone, existing in a small globe of light in all that darkness. She made no movement that suggested she recognized his presence. He knew she was thinking of _him_.

Quietly, Harry made his way to a wooden chair across from her, hearing the creak of it as it took his weight. Sighing, he crossed his fingers in his lap, ears picking up on the musical tune issuing from the radio, unrecognizable, but melodious, voices gathering with the tune to heights that only songs could reach. It seemed to come from a different world than the one they occupied, one where evil wasn't lurking in every shadow, a world without people living in fear. Somehow, Harry didn't know for sure, it carried a sense of hope with it, another layer of light filling the room, coloring their bubble more separate from the darkness.

Listening to it, Harry gaze across the room at Hermione. She looked so small, sitting there, huddled as if from cold, on the steps by the lamp, gazing into the light as if it held some secret to it. The warm light flamed against her face, casting shadow, outlining her profile. The picture was warm and comforting, like Harry had never noticed before. Looking at her, Harry realized how central she was to his life, even from the beginning.

She was like an anchor, a beacon that he could always find to orient himself. Whenever he needed help, whenever he was unsure, all he'd need to do was turn and she'd be there, a guiding light, especially now. It was even more apparent without Ron there. He knew, the moment Ron had posed the question, the moment she had stayed silent and let him leave, that she would never leave him, no matter how what the difficulties were that he faced. She was that sure of him. And that was comforting, it was overwhelming, it was wonderful.

And sitting there, looking at her, Harry knew that she was the closest person to him, knew him like no one else, maybe even Ron, because she understood him, listened to him. She never gave up on him, never doubted. And as he gazed, Harry felt something in him shift, something that made him set aside all the worries, all the fears and anxieties that plagued him that moment. Instead, he focused his sole attention on the girl with him right at that moment, her fears visibly weighing her shoulder down.

He was moving before he realized what he was doing, just acting on instinct. It took him seconds to reach her, to stand in front of her and offer his hand. She looked up when she felt his proximity, stared, almost angrily, at his proffered hand, as if it were an offense. But, whatever it was she was thinking, she pushed it aside and took his hand, sighing and rolling her eyes to the floor. She didn't understand him.

But he persisted with his idea. He was following feeling, letting the music fuel this fire that was burning inside him. He wanted her to be with him in this, to share this moment with him, to understand – they were partners.

Helping her up, Harry watched as she straightened to her full height, eye to eye with him. Harry's eyes followed to curve of her neck till they rested on the locket, slung heavily around her neck, like a lead weight. It didn't belong. Carefully, his hands came up to grasp the chain, lifting it lightly above her head and setting it aside, useless, on the table. Now nothing was separating them.

Reaching down, Harry grabbed her hands again, leading her to the center of the room, keeping their eyes locked. Her face was drawn, the shadow of fear and hurt still haunting her features. She looked breathtaking and beautiful, fragile and sad all at once. He wanted to ease the pain and worry from her face, and he was doing it in the only way he knew how.

Swaying his hips gently, he pulled her arms with his: back went one and forward the other, then switch, a slow sashay of limbs. He felt her resistance lessening, the clouds parting, the furrows leaving her brows as she began to move with him, the music building them up, all around. She smiled half-heartedly, and he reciprocated, coaxing her. They shifted, rotating around the room. He lifted his arm to twirl her, watching her lips loosen as she orbited around him, her body finally following his lead, moving with him. He knew he was close, she was opening up, a flower budding beneath his sunlight, understanding, shedding those fears as he had done, moments ago.

They twirled and swayed, feet moving lightly against the floor, unsure of the dance, but uncaring. She twirled him, she twirled, they smiled together in the silliness, reveling in this moment, in the glory of a normalcy they hadn't felt in years. Right now, they were just a boy and a girl, dancing, having fun and it didn't matter what else was happening, didn't matter what the world did because theirs had narrowed down to a point, the forest, the tent, the halo of light that fell on them.

Clasping hands, they rocked back and forth. Harry felt the warmth of her palm against his, their fingers intertwined, the curve of her waist where his arm pressed softly, curling her to him, the curve of hers around his shoulders. Her face was lit by the smile that was spreading, her eyes crinkling in delight and giddiness, a feeling he was sure was mirrored in his own face. Their giggles bubbled in their chests, a feeling that ran through them both from the closeness.

The smiles were infectious, their legs sporadic. Harry bent and wobbled, twisted his torso as Hermione twisted hers, their hands never leaving each other. Their bodies flowed from each other, like waves lapping the beach, in and out, closer and farther, following the beat of the music that was resonating in their ears, in their hearts.

Harry didn't know when it happened – maybe it was the progression of the song, maybe it was just the natural order of things, it didn't matter – but he felt himself getting close to her. They were chest to chest, their curves molding, arms encircling one another. He let his chin rest gently on her shoulder, she doing the same, bringing her arm around him. They had hugged before. Harry knew what it was like to hug Hermione, feel her against him, brief and warm, emotional, the hug of a friend. He knew what it felt to be hugged by someone he cared about – Ginny had hugged him – his chest got tight and his heart sped up, that lightness gripping him. He hadn't felt that feeling for so long that it was almost a shock when it sprang on him again, now, in this moment, with Hermione. His heart was hammering, his breath was short, he was almost delirious with the lightness in his chest, almost felt like he could float. Now he knew what it felt like to hug Hermione like a lover. He closed his eyes and let the feeling sweep through him, let her scent fill his nose and lungs. He wondered if she could feel how fast his heart was beating, did she feel it too?

And as the music continued to waltz around them their faces drifted to gaze at each other. Harry stared at Hermione like he'd never seen her before. Was she the girl he'd always admired as a friend? This was the girl who continued to stun him with her brilliance – and in that moment he saw her in a thousand images: laughing with him and Ron as they made fun of Malfoy, running to hug him after so much time spent apart, so much danger, clutching onto him as they faced Lupin the werewolf in the dark of the Forbidden Forest, stepping graceful, elegant, down the stairs, her Yule Ball dress swirling around her legs, beautiful. How did it take him this long to realize the love he felt for her was stronger than that of friendship? How did he not see how much she meant to him until now?

After all those years they spent together, as friends, alone – Ron off on some rant or grudge against him – how had he not come to see her in this light? A true beauty, a girl. And here they were, alone again. So close. Harry saw something flicker in Hermione's eyes, a recognition. Their faces drifted slowly, closer and closer together, like magnets – she was so close to him now, he could feel her breath on his face – and then their lips were touching, a gentle kiss.

Hermione's lips were not like Ginny's. They were softer, fuller. They parted, and then came together, their lips enfolding each other's lightly, again and again, everything else fading softly into the background. Harry pulled her tighter to him and lifted his hand to cup her cheek gently, feeling Hermione's fingers clutch his shirt. They built to a momentum, emotions pouring out, leaving them clutching each other in desperation.

The music was fading, leaving the pair trembling, their foreheads pressed against each other, eyes closed.

"Hermione…" Harry's voice was soft, uncertain. Hermione opened her eyes to him, reflecting his uncertainty. She pulled away slightly, leaving the cavern of safety that their arms had created for each other. The shadows were threatening to creep back into her face.

"I'm not sorry about what happened," he spoke suddenly, his voice deep, "I know I'm not – I haven't felt that way, every, that was –"

"I-it was wrong, we shouldn't have done that, Harry! Ron –" Hermione's voice cracked and trembled, her eyes were darting about the room, as if she were afraid to look at him.

"No, no it wasn't. Hermione, you can't seriously tell me that that kiss meant nothing to you, that you didn't feel anything!" Harry nearly shouted. She was retreating and he was afraid he'd lose this feeling if she did, that he would never be able to get it back, and he wasn't done discovering it yet.

"I-I –" Hermione stilled, clasping her hands and bringing them to her chin, then raised her eyes to his. "Yes, I did. I did. Oh God, I did! I'm a horrible person! I'm betraying Ron, you're betraying him! We're terrible friends!"

Harry shook his head. She couldn't use that against them, he wouldn't let her.

"Hermione, no, don't you see? How can you call this a betrayal? We have feelings, we have feelings for each other and we just expressed them. How many times has Ron walked out on me? On you? Honestly, how the bloody hell can he expect this not to happen? We spend so much time together, we're so close! And what, how many times has he insulted you? Made fun of you? Picked fights with you!"

"Harry, that's not fair –" Hermione tried to interject, but Harry didn't let her.

"No, don't try to defend him, it's the truth! He treats you like dirt because he knows you'll always forgive him – you have always forgiven him, after a time. Can you honestly tell me right now that you would go back to him, forget that this," here he pointed back and forth between them, "didn't happen?"

She stared at him, her eyes beginning to water, trembling.

"Harry, I don't know what to do – I – I read books, I study, I do homework, research, I always knew what to do, but I don't, now, I – I'm so confused!"

Harry closed the space between them, wrapped his arms around her and let her bury her head in his chest. Her shoulders shook as she cried lightly, and Harry felt his heart wrench. He didn't know what to do either, but he knew what he didn't want to do. He didn't want to let her go back to Ron. He didn't want to go back to Ginny.

The radio crackled with voices, unintelligible words spilling forth, white noise. The two were in a tight embrace, swaying, emotional to the point of breaking. After what felt like hours, Hermione lifted her head. Harry took in her tear streaked face, her flushed cheeks and watery eyes. He felt his own eyes soften. He brought his hand back to her face, gently wiping at the tears.

"Hermione," he began again, finding courage, "I know we're both in the middle of a war, that bad things are going to happen, that we won't have moments like these in for a while, but I know that when all this is over, I don't want to go back to the way things were – I want to be with you." Hermione's lip trembled.

"Harry, I don't know if that's going to happen." Harry shook his head.

"I don't want to waste time thinking about scenarios of what could happen, I just want to know that you're with me in this. Do you want to be with me too?" And he'd done it. He had laid it on the line. Hermione's answer could break this moment, completely shatter it into un-repairable pieces. Her answer could mean giving him a lasting feeling of hope, of love, that he could carry with him for the rest of this journey. He held his breath, his eyes searching hers. He felt like he could see the battle going on inside her, through her eyes. And then her lips parted.

"I do." Harry felt his lips widen in a smile, a smile she hesitantly reciprocated.

"I love you, you know," he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers, his eyes crinkling with his smile. Hermione giggled softly, a hiccupping sound after all her tears.

"Yes, I know," she answered. But her smile faded slowly. "What are we going to do, Harry?" Harry sighed, closing his eyes, the better to gather his thoughts.

It was a problem. They both had other attachments, albeit less than fully formed ones, but still, they were attachments that involved close friends, members of the same family. Ron was like a brother to him. Harry felt his gut wrench when he thought about how Ron might take this. It was something he'd already accused them of. And his sister – Ginny, what would she think, him leaving her for the friend that had encouraged her to wait, to let things progress, for him, Harry, to come to her! And she was Ron's sister! Ron would kill him for hurting her! It was definitely a mess, so complicated it made his head spin. And, if he were true to himself, he'd admit that he had absolutely no idea what to do. So he, opened his eyes, looked at her face, answered Hermione in the only way he could.

"I don't know, Hermione." She sighed, closing her eyes, now. "But I do know this – we're in the middle of a war, and it's not going to be getting any better anytime soon. We don't have time to do anything about this, so we might as well not tell Ron or Ginny or anyone, at least, not now. We'll figure this out when everything's over, when we're free to think about our normal lives." It was all he could think of, all he could do. He didn't want to let go of this moment, but he knew that this was no time to lose focus on the task at hand. Sure, it was nice to have a moment, just a moment, free from the stress and danger, but this moment couldn't last forever. Hermione and he could only exist in this way, in this space for just this moment, and then they'd have to face their reality, get back to the task at hand.

He felt Hermione let out a long, cool breath, felt it rush past his face. Then she opened her eyes to look at him, reached her hands around to find his, and threaded their fingers together.

"I understand, Harry. You're right. We can't think too closely about this, now, it's too much. Let's just, let's just stay like this a little longer," she squeezed his hands, "then we just have to, have to let it go, for a while." Her voice was sad, strained. Harry worried about whether this was the right thing to do, he worried about Ron, Ginny, there were so many bloody things to worry about! Why couldn't things be simpler! Why couldn't he have realized how much he loved her sooner, he could have avoided all this pain!

"Harry, what are you thinking?"

Harry shook his head. "I just wish – I wish I'd know sooner. I wish I'd realized how much –"

"Shh," Hermione hushed him, shaking her head. "Don't do that, it's the past, we can't change it, no matter how much we want to."

"I know," he sighed, tightening his grip on her hands, swaying them slightly. "Hermione," he began, letting himself smile a little, coaxing her back into that light, playful mood that had been burst just moments ago.

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked slowly, the corner of her lip pulling up slightly, in anticipation.

"Can I kiss you again?" Hermione burst out giggling at Harry's ridiculousness.

"Harry, you just kissed me minutes ago, you didn't ask then!" He was being foolish and silly on purpose – she knew what he was doing, and, though she could see he was only trying to lighten the mood, knew that they didn't have much left of this moment, that soon they'd have to turn away, get back to business as usual, she wanted to play along, wanted to stretch this out as long as she could.

"I know, but, I thought I'd be the gentleman, this time. You know, give you, my lady, a choice." He was grinning now and Hermione couldn't help but grin back.

"Well then, as a lady, I accept your request and bid you kiss me on the cheek!" She laughed a little at his crestfallen face.

"Your cheek? I was thinking –"

"I know what you were thinking, Harry," Hermione interrupted, putting on a face of seriousness – hard to do when she was so close to busting up laughing, "but that is not so gentlemanly. Why, we've only just confessed our feelings! It was quite shocking and a bit uncouth of you to take advantage of my surprise and kiss me earlier." Harry shook his head, chuckling slightly to himself, dropping her one hand and bringing her other up to his lips.

"Well, then, my lady, I'll kiss your hand," here he placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand, "and your cheek." Harry moved forward, off to the side, slightly, his left shoulder just behind her so that he was in her peripheral, and leaned in, placing another kiss on her cheek, which was warm from her blush.

"And are you satisfied, sir?" Hermione's voice quivered, her blood racing. This wasn't a game anymore, all the silliness gone, leaving only desire and desperation. Hermione felt the moment closing, knew that Harry felt it too. Soon this night would be over and they'd have to leave, get back to hiding and searching. They just wanted a little longer, one last memento of this epiphany, here, together.

"Not in the least, but, as a gentleman, I wouldn't want to push my luck. I'm at your mercy here, Hermione." She knew what she wanted, then, and she wasn't going to wait any longer.

"Then kiss me, Harry." She felt him sigh beside her.

"Where?" he breathed, waiting for her say. His voice was so dark and deep, Hermione wanted to hear it surround her, flow over her skin forever.

"My lips, then." She didn't have to prompt him twice. He was in front of her in a beat, leaning forward, hands cupping her neck and bringing her face to his. Their lips met softly, Hermione letting out a soft breath before wrapping her arms around his neck and deepening the kiss, making it last, making it strong enough to hold through all the days ahead. Who knew when they'd be like this again?

Harry put all he had into the kiss, letting the wantonness surround them. He knew that letting go meant the end of this moment and they wouldn't have a chance to say anything else on the matter, it would break their resolve. All they had was this kiss and he was going to make damn sure it was a kiss worth remembering.

After what felt like minutes, but was only seconds, the kiss came to its natural end. They parted, the longing still in their eyes.

Harry looked at Hermione, trying to give her one last smile, a reassurance. It was halfhearted.

Hermione looked at Harry and shook her head, eye tearing a little, before letting go of him and stepping back. She turned away, back to her perch on the stair, back to the radio. Harry watched as she settled back into place, as if nothing had happened. It was clean, a slam back to reality. Harry felt his legs shake a little. Clenching his fingers into fists and releasing, Harry made his way back to the chair, set himself down, and clasped his fingers in his lap, just as before.

No matter what happened, he thought, he knew that this moment with Hermione was more than he could ever have hoped for. It was filling and heartening, giving him hope and strength, a will power to fight through anything. He hated having to keep this a secret, hated having to force that on Hermione, but he knew there was no other way, not without complications, and this was no time for such trivialities of normalcy. He had a task, a weight that was pulling him down. Voldemort was out there, wreaking havoc, killing – it was necessary that he stay focused. He was the chosen one, and with such a responsibility on his shoulders he couldn't be a normal guy anymore. He couldn't be normal guy who was in love with his best friend's girl, worrying about how to make his move. If only things were that easy.

One thought, though, kept his spirits up. It didn't matter that dangers lurked around every corner, that his best friend had deserted them. He owed Ron a great deal for giving him this moment, for giving him this night to realize what Hermione meant to him. This thought made him all the more grateful for his friend's most recent betrayal. Without Ron's distrust and faithlessness, he and Hermione might not have been.

"Thanks, Ron, I owe you one," Harry whispered, closing his eyes and smiling contentedly to himself.

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**Well, if you like it, you like it, if you don't, well I'm sorry for you. This place is strictly for those who have an open mind and can see the reasons for choosing to put these two characters together.**

**Please review, and not just to say you liked it or hated it. I want real feedback if you can manage.**

**Thank you again for reading,**

**theD'Urberville  
**


	2. Readers, please read!

Hello my wonderful readers! In response to many of your reviews, I am in the process of writing the last, _last_, installment of this story. It is now a two-shot and it features the conclusion, hopefully a well-received one, to this story I started not so long ago. I am so pleased with the response to _A Little Night Music_, I cannot thank you enough. I am a huge supporter of Harry/Hermione, and it's nice to know that there are more people out there who feel the same way. Thank you for your support as readers and I promise I will put up the next installment soon. I hope that it is as wonderful and worth it as you all have hoped it would be!

Cheers!

EW


	3. Stay, Don't Go

"Come on, Harry, you have to get out of this room, or else you'll go starkers!" Ron cajoled him.

Harry didn't want to go out tonight. Tonight, he wanted to be alone, to think. And it wasn't like he could explain this to Ron, seeing as how tonight he needed to think about how he was going to end things with Ginny.

Yes, Ron's sister was lovely, she was beautiful. Harry had been taken by her only just months ago, back when they were all still at Hogwarts. It was during the dark times, the war, where he had thought she was one of the only beacons who could help bring him out of the darkness. Afterwards, of course, they were going to get married, settle down. He was going to be an auror. Everything seemed so settled, so clear. It was all falling into place just as he had expected, how everyone had expected things to go.

Only he hadn't expected to fall in love with his best friend and Ron's girlfriend, Hermione Granger.

His feelings for her were the cause for this disturbance, for this unrest. Harry could even place when this had all started:

_The swaying, the twirling, arms wrapping loosely, then tightly around each other. The pulsing heat of their bodies as they shimmied to the distant beat of the radio. Her bold, brown eyes, so sad, so lovely staring up at him. Her warm lips as he kissed her, molding against his. Their clasped hands, the slightly electric buzz from touching her skin._

"Do you want to be with me too?"

"I do."

"I love you, you know?"

"Yes, I know."

And what had he been thinking? That they could wait till the end of the war, till all that mess was over, to be together? It was what they had both agreed on, to wait, to keep to themselves till they knew things like their feelings would not disrupt , would not wreak havoc on the relationships that they each had formed.

Yet the war had come, and gone. It was all over and yet still there had been nothing done, still they had not finished what they had started. And Harry was getting to the point where he couldn't wait anymore. He needed her too much. It was getting too difficult to be around her now, knowing he couldn't reach over and curl his arm around her waist, couldn't brush her long, brown hair from her neck and kiss the pale skin there, couldn't lean down and brush his lips against hers.

And it was bad enough that they were both keeping up this sham of appearances, both pretending all was well in the presence of Ron and Ginny. Harry felt like his head might explode if he had to watch Ron thread his fingers with Hermione's one more time, watch him whisper small endearments to her and watch her blush. _He_ wanted to do that. And he knew by the look on Hermione's face when Ginny leaned up against him or pulled him into a sudden kiss that she was growing impatient too.

What were they waiting for?

Harry had no idea. At first, it had seemed like the timing wasn't right. It was too soon, too many deaths and sorrow and fighting to get back to normalcy. But then, when things did start to heal, to mend, people starting to go back to their daily routine, neither of them had done anything to bring it up. And as the time ticked away, Harry felt like their dream of being together was getting smaller and smaller. And he couldn't take it anymore.

It had been a week since he'd talked to Ginny. The first couple of days she'd tried to contact him, but he kept himself holed up in Grimmauld place. In part, he was trying to avoid her, but it wasn't only that. He was also trying to lay low and lay out his plan of action. And then she started to come by, knock on his door, demanding to see him. She'd even sent him a howler - but he ignored all of it. He didn't want to see her. It was getting bad enough in the weeks leading up to this moment when he started to reject her embraces, stood mute to her endearments, even turned his head from her kisses. She was beginning to grow suspicious of him and he knew that he had to get things on the right track before she came up with her own conclusions as to why he was avoiding her.

As for Hermione, Harry had been sending her owls nearly hourly. She was living at home with her parents, so he wasn't worried about Ron too much. Ron was mostly too busy with his own family at the moment and whenever he wasn't there he was here with Harry, nagging him about why Harry was ignoring his sister and trying to get answers from him to bring back to her.

All he would do was just write her a few lines every time he thought of something he loved about her. They always were along the lines of, _I just remembered how much I love the way your eyes sparkle when you've just discovered something important _or _When you tilt your head back and laugh I can't help but feel warm inside because I know you're truly happy_. He knew that this was stupid stuff and that any of his friends could make fun of him for it, but he couldn't help it. He was trying to get the ball rolling. He thought that if he did this, she would get that he was trying to bring them closer.

Harry sighed, thinking of another image of Hermione, the way her nose wrinkled when she thought of something distasteful. He wanted to write that one out, too, and send it to her, but then he remembered that Ron was here, trying to get him to go out.

"Harry, hello? You alright there, mate?" Harry looked back to Ron to see him staring at him quizzically. Harry tried to grin to diffuse the tension.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry, Ron. Just have a lot on my mind..." He scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish. Truth was he felt a bit guilty thinking about Hermione while Ron was here. After all, she was still technically still Ron's girlfriend. That thought made Harry clench his fist.

"So, you coming, then, Harry? Mum'll be glad to see you - and Ginny. Well, Ginny's been gettin' kinda anxious to see you, Harry. She thinks you're ignoring her or something..." At this, Ron glanced sideways, a furtive glance that conveyed his suspicions that Ginny was right. Harry shrugged.

"Ron, I don't think I feel like going anywhere tonight - "

"That's what you always say, Harry!" Ron interrupted, exasperatedly.

"Yeah, well, I mean it, Ron," Harry insisted. "I'm just so tired. We spend all day practicing for our auror exams, and sometimes we hang out afterwards. Lately, I've just wanted to come back here and clear my mind, a bit."

"But this has been going on for a week, now, Harry!"

"Yeah, well, I've got a lot on my mind." Harry frowned. This line of questioning was getting awfully close to the truth, and he didn't want to get so flustered that he'd end up letting something slip.

"Like what, mate? Are you worried about the auror exams? Come off it, you know you'll do great! You already know loads of stuff!"

Harry thought that this was the perfect excuse for his anxieties and quickly made up his mind to let Ron think that was exactly why he'd been so reclusive lately.

"Yeah, yeah you're right. It's just that - well, I can't help but worry about it. I think I just tend to over think things," Harry supplied. Ron easily took the bait.

"Harry, mate, you just need to relax and listen to Hermione. She's doing enough work for the both of us! And hey, we have loads of time to complete our training. You're going to be fine. Now, come on, getting out will do you some good, get your mind off things..." Ron stepped towards the door, giving Harry an expectant look.

Harry shook his head. "Sorry, Ron, not tonight. Maybe tomorrow?"

Ron sighed. "Right, that's what you've been saying all week." He shook his head. "I know when I see a lost cause. Guess I'm going to have to tell Mum and Ginny they're going to have to wait another day..." He gave Harry a nervous look, as if trying to gauge whether or not he _should_tell them that.

"Yeah, tell them I'm sorry I couldn't make it," Harry told him. He saw Ron to the door. Ron gave him a quick wave before turning on the spot and disapperating.

As soon as he was gone, Harry decided that he did need to go out. He did need to clear his head, but he knew the only way he could do that was to see _her_ - so he quickly stepped outside, locking Grimmauld place behind him and disapperating into the night, arriving moments later on Hermione's doorstep.

"Harry what are you doing here?" Hermione questioned a little breathlessly, opening the door wide. Harry stepped in quickly and closed the door for her.

"I couldn't stand it, I had to see you," he spoke quickly, his voice low. It made Hermione's skin prickle at the intimate sound of it. Her cheeks began to flush.

"Are we alone?" Harry questioned, his eyes focused intently on her.

"Ye-yes, we -" But she didn't get a chance to finish her sentence before Harry swooped in and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her close and kissing her soundly. Hermione was too surprised to react right away, but soon enough she was kissing Harry back. They stumbled backward until Hermione's back hit a wall, but they were too busy to care. Harry was sucking on Hermione's bottom lip fiercely and Hermione moaned gently. It was Harry's feverish hands slipping beneath her top and the shock of his skin touching the small of her back in such an intimate way that caused Hermione to jump to her senses. She quickly put her hands on Harry's chest and pushed him back, breaking the kiss.

They both panted slightly, not saying anything. All the words were being communicated through their eyes. Harry's eyes burned with fierce passion and Hermione's looked back with a longing.

"Harry, what do you think you're doing? We can't be doing this right now!" Hermione's voice quavered. Her fingers longed to reach out to him, thread themselves in his hair and bring him back to her, but her conscience wouldn't let her. They had to do things right.

Harry sighed. "I'm sorry, Hermione, I know I was being rash, it's just that - I can't think about this anymore, if I do I'll go crazy. All I want is to be with you, even when my brain tells me it's wrong, that we'd be betraying too many people, but I don't think I can stay away from you anymore!" He took a step closer, but Hermione slid along the wall, away from him, holding her hands up in a defensive manner. She knew that if he kissed her again, even touched her, she would lose what little strength she had and give in to her careless desires.

"Harry, please, just - stay where you are, let us think for a moment. I know that we both want this to happen more than anything, but...but we just can't go about it like this!" She patted her cheeks lightly, her eyes sweeping around, trying to take this all in.

"I know, I know, but whatever it is that we're going to do - we need to do it soon, because if I have to watch Ron cozy up to you one more time I promise you I am going to punch him in the jaw!" Harry clenched is fists, as if he was already imagining it. Hermione shook her head.

"Harry, how do you think _I _feel? Having to watch Ginny kiss you and snuggle up against you, and -"

"Just stop," Harry told her through clenched teeth, holding his hand out. Hermione shook her head.

"This is such a mess, Harry," she said tearfully, wrapping her arms around herself, turning away. Her eyes could barely make out the living room of her parent's place past the tears that were crowding her eyes. Soon enough, she felt Harry came up behind her, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders.

"I know, I know, but Hermione remember what we decided, long before all this - We promised each other we'd wait until the war was over to be together. The war is _over_!" he told her feverishly. "And we are still not together! What are we waiting for anymore? For things to settle, get back to normal? They are, and the longer we wait, the more buried we will be under all this obligation. I'm not ready to live my life just settling for normalcy with Ginny when I know I can have so much more with you, when I want so much more with you."

Harry felt Hermione's body shake as she let her tears fall. He held her tighter to him, resting his cheek against her head and wrapping his arms around her middle. She turned in his grasp and buried her head against his neck. He felt the wet of her tears on his skin and closed his eyes, feeling her sorrow permeate into his own being.

They stood like that for a while, with Harry stroking Hermione's hair occasionally, soothing her until she had shed all her tears. Sniffling, she pulled way and looked up at him. Her eyes were red and watery and her cheeks were flushed and streaked from her tears.

"Harry, I'm telling Ron this week. I don't know when, but I am. At least I don't have to move out or anything, since I live here, so it won't be so bad - "

"I'm telling Ginny as well, and no, you don't have to move out, but maybe...maybe you could move in with me? Grimmauld place is more than big enough for the two of us..."

"Harry," Hermione sighed. "It's too soon. As much as I'd love to do that, be closer to you, I think it would be a little insensitive to Ron and Ginny if we broke up with them and then got together right away."

Harry nodded, sighing as well. "As usual, you're right. But you will - eventually, right? Move in with me?" At this, Hermione gave him a small smile and nodded. She reached up and laid a hand against his cheek.

"I would love too," she whispered. Harry placed his own hand against hers and pressed her fingers harder to his cheek.

"I can't wait till that happens." He sighed again, closing his eyes, before opening them to look at her. "What are you going to tell Ron? More importantly, where are you going to tell him? Surely not the Burrow?"

Hermione ducked her head against his chest, pulling their hands down so that they hung, intertwined, at their sides.

"I'll invite him over here," Hermione decided. "I don't know exactly what I'm going to say, but I will tell him that it's not going to work between us because I'm not in love with him..."

"Are you going to tell him you love me?" Harry asked quietly. He brought his other hand up to stroke her hair, shifting a lock between his fingers distractedly, waiting on her answer.

"Yes, I think it's best that we go for broke and lay all our cards on the table. Rip the band aid off, not beat around the bush, cut to the chase - "

"Hermione!" Harry cut in, stopping the jumble of words falling out of her nervous mouth. "Shh, it's okay. It's going to be okay. I agree. We need just to be completely honest. Do you want to tell them together?"

"Yes, I think that's best too. They might not feel so betrayed if we do this upfront and honestly. But - oh I don't know, either way this is going to hurt!" Hermione sighed worriedly. "Are you prepared for Ron to be angry with you for the foreseeable future, Harry, and possibly the rest of the Weasleys?" She looked up at him then.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "It's not like he hasn't ever been angry at me before...that we haven't gone through tough patches," Harry explained, "but...it will hurt," he added. "But Hermione, we've got to let them know that if we hadn't told them and had let things go as they are, we'd all end up unhappy and unloved! They've got to understand that we're not just doing this for us, though it might seem like it upfront. We're doing this for all of us, to save us all from the hurt that might be caused, will be caused later on, down the road."

"Harry?" Hermione questioned.

"What?" Harry asked, looking down at her. She was looking up at him, a small smile on her face.

"I love you," she whispered, before standing on her tiptoes and pressing her lips to his surprised ones. It was his turn to be stunned into inaction. But he quickly recovered and squeezed her tighter to him, letting go of their clasped hands and putting both on the small of her back, his lips parting to take in hers. Hermione threaded her hands through his hair like she'd been wanting to. And they stood like that, kissing gently, for a moment, before Harry pulled away just slightly, pressing his forehead to hers.

"I love you too."

"So, we'll tell them together?" Harry asked, staring off into space, almost picturing the distant future, sitting next to Hermione, feeling guilty as he looked his best friend and his soon-to-be ex-girlfriend in the face and told them about his feelings for Hermione. Then, that giddy, light sensation of sheer happiness at the same time, because it would finally happen - he and Hermione would be together.

They had moved from the hall to the living room, settling themselves on the couch which faced a television. The dark night was clearly visible through the drawn blinds that framed a large window that looked out onto the street. The room was only dimly lit by a small lamp sitting on a table beside the couch. By its light, Harry could see the shade of caramel Hermione's skin took on in the semi-darkness. While he sat, she had cuddled up to his side, resting most of her top half on his chest, head nestled beneath his chin, her hands clutching his shirt.

He felt Hermione nod her head against his cheek. She squeezed his hand.

"I can barely contain myself, Harry. I can't believe this is finally happening!" She shifted, her head tilting back to look up at him. Harry leaned back too, so he could look back at her. Her face was a little flushed, but her eyes sparkled with the excitement she spoke of.

Harry couldn't help but grin down at her. She was so beautiful. Slowly, making sure to give her time to pull away if she wanted to, he leaned down to kiss her. Hermione accepted the kiss with a light hum of anticipation. They kept it chaste, just a light, gentle molding of their lips, before Harry pulled back and stroked the side of her face gently. Hermione closed her eyes.

Looking at her, Harry felt that tightening of his chest, as if he would burst from all this happiness. Since the end of the war, he could not remember a time, a moment where he had felt so happy. He could honestly live in this moment forever. But this moment, like so many of theirs, had to come to an end. They had to move forward to get to where they wanted to be in their relationship.

"You should probably go," Hermione whispered, still keeping her eyes closed. Harry sighed, his chest deflating with the words.

"Yeah, you're right." Still the two stayed as they were for a few moments longer, neither wanting the other to go. Harry was the first to move, sitting up, bringing Hermione, who had been lying against his chest, legs curled up beneath her, up with him. They both sat, side by side, looking out at the dimly lit room.

"Send me an owl when you're planning on telling him, okay?" Harry asked, grabbing Hermione's hand.

"Okay," she breathed. Harry got up, still holding her hand. Together, they walked to the door. Before he left, Harry leaned down and gave Hermione another soft kiss and a small smile.

"Love you," he whispered, his face radiating that sense of young, boyish shyness that Hermione remembered from their night in the tent during the war. She couldn't help but let out a breathy laugh, a shy, nervous response, her stomach flooding with butterflies.

Though they'd both exchanged those words to each other before, it still made Hermione light-headedly happy. She felt like a girl experiencing her first crush - well, she very nearly was. While she had experienced feelings, initially, for Ron, Harry had almost immediately squashed them, and she felt something even stronger for him than she had before, with Ron.

Harry was quite a contrast to Ron. She liked that they rarely argued, that they both were more of a match intellectually. Harry was perhaps not as funny as Ron, but he was kindly and warm and he lifted her up where very rarely brought her down.

Smiling at Harry, she replied, with a grin herself, "I know." It was almost as if they were back in the tent, exchanging their feelings, as they had then, with an almost giddy, secretive flair.

Harry nodded, backing away. Hermione stood at the door, watching him until he disapperated, leaving her to stare out into the night.

Harry had just appeared outside Number 4, when he saw Ron apparate right next to him.

"Whoa! Sorry, mate! I didn't know you'd been out!" He grinned broadly at Harry, laying a hand on his shoulder. "That was close! Can you imagine if we'd ended up on top of each other?"

Harry could barely manage a smile at Ron's exuberance. He really was feeling a bit disappointed that Ron was here, and felt a sense of apprehension. He didn't know how well he could keep up a happy, normal front with Ron while all the while he would be thinking about the fast approaching moment when he and Hermione would be telling him about their feelings for each other.

Plus, he wasn't so sure he'd be able to keep it together if Ron started talking about his relationship with Hermione. What if he was here to tell him he was planning something special for her, wanting advice - Harry could just imagine how well he'd take then news when they finally told him: "How could you just sit there listening to me prattle on about Hermione while all the time you knew she'd breaking up with me to be with you!"

Harry would be furious if he were in Ron's place. They were best friends, it would be wrong to hide such information, which is why he hadn't wanted to see Ron until he and Hermione were actually going to tell him. Harry gulped.

"So, we going in or what?" Ron asked, pulling him back to the present.

"Y-yeah, alright," Harry replied, nervously, opening the door and stepping aside to let Ron in. It was going to be a long night. Harry just hoped he could get through it with as little discomfort as possible - and hopefully without letting slip to Ron that Hermione was in love with him. He really wished he could crow about that.

The morning dawned clear and bright, disproportionate to Harry's mood. Ron had kept him up until the early hours of the morning, talking and laughing and slopping Butterbeer all over himself. Harry, with a passable performance of joviality, had talked and drank alongside Ron, screening his thoughts. Ron left, smiling and happy and completely unaware of his looming break-up, which suited Harry just fine.

Harry had dragged himself to bed after his best-friend's departure, and managed to toss and turn his way into sleep. He'd had one dream - though he could barely remember it - of holding Hermione's hand as he sat next to her, the two of them sitting in a lonely park, happy to be in each other's company, and in sunshine.

Yet Harry had woken with a feeling of dread, weighing him down. He could not even look back on last night with comfort, because all he could feel was a sense of apprehension and worry. He didn't want Ron to hate him. He didn't want Ginny to hate him - or any of the Weasleys. They meant so much to him - they were like his family, _were _his family, and he felt like he was betraying them.

If only, Harry thought bitterly, if only he and Hermione could have realized their feelings for each other sooner, back when they were still at Hogwarts. Or, at least, not have felt stirrings for anyone else until they realized their feelings for one another, because now it was like they were entering into a new war - one of love, hurt, and anger.

Harry could not bring himself to regret falling in love with Hermione. Quite the contrary, he was overjoyed that he loved her, and that she returned his love. It meant the world to him. Yet, he felt like he was being torn in half - and it was all he could do not to blurt it out to Ron last night, because that's all he could think about. He just wanted to confide in his best friend. But he was afraid, afraid that Ron would not want to be his best friend any longer, not after this...

His thoughts were interrupted by a tapping at the window and he turned to see a large Bard owl sitting on the sill, a letter tied to his leg. Harry immediately thrust open the window and reached out to untie the letter. The owl hooted and stayed sitting on the sill, watching him with piercing yellow eyes. Harry stared a moment before turning back to the letter. He recognized the writing immediately and frantically ripped it open.

_Harry,  
I'm telling him today, please come over immediately. I've sent word to Ginny and Ron that we're all meeting at my place. I haven't told them why yet, but I know that they'll be here soon._

- Hermione

Harry was moving fast, so fast, in fact that he was halfway dressed before he realized that the owl was still sitting on the windowsill.

"Oh!" Harry exclaimed then started to scramble for a spare piece of parchment and quill. Having acquired these items, he scribbled a short response:

_I'll be right over,  
Harry_

and tied it to the leg the bird outstretched when it noticed Harry was approaching. It took off into flight and Harry wasted no time watching it and finished getting dressed. He was out the door and apparating within fifteen minutes.

Harry arrived first to Hermione's place and he was relieved by it – so, it seemed, was Hermione.

"Thank goodness you got here before them - it would have been so awkward otherwise!" Hermione blustered, hugging him tightly. Harry hugged her back, but let go quickly. He didn't want that to be Ron's and Ginny's first sight when they appeared here. He thought that it would be best if he and Hermione remained a safe distance away from each other for this, so as not to appear offensive.

They had only a moment, just standing there, looking at each other, before there was a knock on the door. Harry sighed and scratched his head while Hermione gave him a fleeting, weak smile before stepping forward and opening it. Both Ginny and Ron stood there, having just apparated, looking apprehensive, but not yet overly suspicious. At the sight of Harry, standing there, Ron looked a bit quizzical and Ginny looked peeved.

"Harry?" Her voice sounded accusing before he'd even said a word. "What are you doing here? I haven't seen you all week! Why are you avoiding me?"

"Ginny, give the guy a break! We've just arrived!" Ron groaned, rolling his eyes. Harry noticed that, while Ron had defended him, he didn't meet his eyes, looking studiously at the doorjamb instead.

"Let's move this inside," Hermione placated, stepping back to make room for Ron and Ginny to enter, ushering them towards the small living room where, just yesterday, she and Harry had sat, cuddling. Harry felt a wave of sweat break out over him.

Harry sat in an armchair, making it impossible for Ginny to place herself next to him. This did not go unnoticed by Ginny, who gave him a disgruntled look and sat heavily down on the couch and continued to look at him, making Harry extremely uncomfortable, which Harry was sure was her meaning. Ron followed his sister's example and sat on the couch as well, leaving Hermione to take the other armchair across the room from Harry. She clasped her hands and sighed nervously.

"Well, Ron, I'm sure you're a bit curious as to why I asked you to come on such short notice -"

"Actually, I'm more curious about why you wanted _both_ Ginny and I here? Is this about Harry or something? Are we staging an intervention? He has been a bit moody, lately, Hermione, but I doubt he needs us to sit down with him like this - "

"Ron - " Harry started to protest, but Hermione shook her head and he shut his mouth. Ginny huffed and looked at Hermione.

"We're not here for an intervention," Hermione started slowly, looking at Ginny before sliding her gaze to Ron. "I wanted you to come here because...because...I want to break up with you," Hermione breathed out, looking flushed. Ron didn't react right away - in fact, it took a moment for him to register her words, it was Ginny who said anything first.

"What? Hermione - are you serious?" At least now she didn't look angry, she looked confused. Then Ron responded.

"WHAT? Hermione - what?" His eyes were wide and his cheeks were now a bit colored. "This has to be some kind of joke!"

"No, no, Ron - I'm sorry, it's not. It's - It's the truth. I am serious. I don't think this is working out." Hermione looked at Ron pleadingly, as if willing to make him understand.

"What do you mean it's not working out?" Ron blustered, looking flabbergasted. "We've been fine! We haven't even been arguing!"

"If my brother's been an idiot to you, I'll talk to him, Hermione" Ginny added, giving Ron a reproachful look, as this was entirely his fault.

"No, it's not Ron, it's me," Hermione intervened, and then her voice grew quiet so that Harry had to strain to hear her words, "it's because I'm - I'm inlovewithsomebodyelse," she rushed out, the words all molding together.

"What?" both Ginny and Ron asked, leaning forward - they hadn't heard. Harry's hands clenched the arms of the armchair, his skin going deathly white. He braced himself.

"I'm in love with somebody else," Hermione repeated, a little more boldly. Her eyes darted to Harry, but too quick for Ginny or Ron to perceive.

"You - you what?" Ron breathed, staring at her. Ginny's eyes were wide, her skin pale. She was looking at Hermione as if she'd seen a ghost.

"I am in love with somebody else," Hermione said yet again, her voice now level. She looked surer of herself, more relieved to finally have come clean.

"You can't be - I - who is it!" Ron shouted, standing up and looking suddenly angry. "Who is it Hermione?"

"Ron - "

"Hermione - just tell me who it is?" he demanded, his eyes blazing.

"Just calm down - "

"Hermione!"

"Ron!"

"Just tell us who it is, Hermione," Ginny added. Her voice was calm, but her eyes were boring into Hermione, as if she was trying to pull the answer out of her with her mind. Ron's fists were clenched.

"It's me!" Everyone went still and quiet at the sound of Harry's outburst. Harry had surprised himself, but he couldn't just sit there and listen to Hermione get bombarded. He was just as much a part of this, so he'd decided, albeit spontaneously, to step up and end this shouting match. Ron turned to look at him, and Ginny, whose face had gone even paler, just stared at him, looking confused. Hermione was looking at him, too, but her face was now filled with worry. Harry gave her an assuring look.

"Excuse me?" Ginny replied, her voice sounding measured and controlled. She had not yet fully conceived of Harry's outburst, or, she just didn't want to believe it.

"Hermione's in love with me and...and she asked Ron to come here to break up with him but she also asked you to come here, Ginny because I asked her to, because... I want to break up with you, too," Harry explained. He steeled himself for what inevitably would come next.

"You want to break up with me?" Ginny shouted, looking outraged. Harry could only nod.

"I see what's going on here," Ron interjected, looking accusingly between Harry and Hermione. "You two little lovebirds have had a fancy for each other since the beginning, right? And all this time you've been having a laugh at us!"

"Ron, how could you think that!" Hermione shouted, but Harry stopped her.

"Don't bother, Hermione. He's just angry, he'll say anything to make himself feel better," Harry spat. He knew this would happen, knew Ron would not take it well. He looked at Ginny. Tears were in her eyes.

"How long?" she demanded.

"Since during the war - when Ron left - "

"I knew it!" Ron shouted, pointing his finger between Harry and Hermione. "I was right to be suspicious!"

"Ron it wasn't like you thought!" Hermione yelled, "Harry and I didn't plan on this happening! We didn't realize - "

"I trusted you!" Ron shouted.

"And I did too," Ginny whispered, now looking at Hermione. "I trusted you with my feelings for Harry - and now look - you've betrayed me and that trust."

"Ginny - "

"No, I don't want to talk to you - I want to talk to Harry, _alone_." She turned on her heel and headed out of the room. Harry walked swiftly over to Hermione.

"Are you going to be okay if I leave you alone with him?" Harry asked quietly, so Ron could not here. He could feel the burn of Ron's eyes on him. Hermione nodded minutely.

"You should go," she whispered back. Harry wanted to give her a quick kiss on the cheek or hold her hand, if only briefly, to show his support, but he knew it would set Ron off, so he just turned and walked after Ginny.

He found her in the kitchen, staring out of the window above the sink. Her hands clenched the edge of the counter top.

"When did it start?" Ginny asked quietly, without turning around. Harry sighed and scratched the back of his head. He stared at her back where he could see the clench of her shoulder blades digging into her shirt as he answered.

"It started when we were hiding out, looking for horcruxes. Ron had left us a while ago and it just...happened."

"_What _just happened, Harry?" Ginny demanded, her words cold and harsh. Harry answered honestly.

"Hermione was so down, we were listening to the radio, a song came on and we - we danced and then I...just...knew -"

"You knew?"

"I knew that I loved her." He heard Ginny's sharp intake of breath, as if his statement, put out so bluntly and sincerely, were a knife that had stabbed her.

"You were in love with_ me_," Ginny disagreed. "Are you saying that you were lying?"

"No, I -"

"Or," she continued, cutting across him, "that you somehow are in love with us both? You can't possibly mean to say that you just stopped loving me in that moment and started loving _her_."

"_No!_" Harry yelled, effectively silencing her. He stared hard at her back, wishing she would face him. "I think - I think that I did love you it's just that, when I realized I had feelings for Hermione, in that moment, I realized that what I had felt for you, or feel for you, is different. I might love you, Ginny, but it is not the way that I love Hermione. I realized I have felt something for Hermione for some time."

At this, Ginny turned around. Harry could see her cheeks were stained with tears, though she kept her face calm and with a cool demeanor she observed him. Harry could see the pain in her eyes, but he could also see the contained fury. She was not letting this go so easily. She would not let him walk away without knowing that he meant everything he said.

"You love her as you can't love me, is that it?" Ginny questioned, her voice razor sharp. "Tell me, Harry, have you been playing with me this whole time? Have you been using _me_?"

Harry shook his head. "I know that it would be easy to think that, after this sudden declaration, but Ginny it's _not true_. I do love you and I did think that you were it for me, all those months ago, back at Hogwarts. When I was in that tent, with Hermione, we were all alone, Ginny. But not just with each other, we were alone with ourselves. All I could think about was our mission and you and Ron and how tired I was - and when I danced with Hermione, I put all that aside for a second and I truly looked at her, and I _truly _felt...love, so strongly, that I was overwhelmed! And then she told me she felt it too."

Ginny continued to look at him, unblinking. Harry could tell she was riveted, but he could not tell if she was swayed into believing him or if she still thought he was telling her a tall tale to make her believe he wasn't using her. He needed her to believe him. Or he would not forgive himself for hurting her.

"Ginny, we knew how it would look, to you and to Ron...We tried to talk ourselves out of it - well, Hermione did, but I couldn't, I guess, because I needed to settle things between her and me. Once I realized how I felt for her, Ginny, I did compare it to how I felt for you...I'm sorry that I couldn't love you better...I really am. We both wished that our situations could be different but - but we both knew that if we went on as we had been...we would be living a lie. And we couldn't do that to you or Ron."

Harry gave Ginny a pleading look, willing her to understand. He could tell that some of the ice was melting - now her eyes mostly just showed pain.

"I want you to know, Ginny, that we both decided not to tell you and Ron this until we felt that things had settled down. We didn't want to screw things up in the middle of a war and we didn't want to hurt you. We thought it best to tell you when we were all best able to have time to clear our heads and seek the comfort we needed. We both were afraid to hurt you but we couldn't live the lie anymore. We couldn't keep doing that to you."

"Harry," Ginny breathed, more tears spilling out of her eyes. But despite the tears, she didn't look as if she were about to give in. "Harry, after all those years I waited for you, if I knew we were going to end up like this..." She shook her head, a new fire growing in her eyes. "I waited and then you told me how you felt about me and this, _this _is the thanks I get!" Her words ended in an angry hiss.

"I know, believe me, I know. Go ahead, yell at me, tell me you hate me, I deserve it - "

"You bet you deserve it, Harry Potter!" Ginny snapped, glaring at him. "You are a downright prat and I can see you've been disrespecting me and Ron as well! And you call him your best friend! You call me your friend! I will not say I hate you, but you can be sure that I don't want to see you anymore!"

"Ginny - " Harry pleaded, but she walked straight up to him and smacked him, hard, across the face, knocking the words right out of his mouth. He stared off into the kitchen, his cheek stinging, as he heard her walk off. He continued to stand there, her words ringing in his ears.

It was dark, with a small smattering of stars twinkling out from between wisps of cloud. Harry sat at the dining room table, his hands resting along the surface in front of him. He could hear the sounds of tea being made in the other room and the small tinkling of china as Hermione bustled about getting a small meal together.

It had been hours since Ginny had smacked him and stormed off, since Ron had decked him in the nose, effectively breaking it, and yelling that he didn't want to see him ever again, before leaving the flat, since Hermione had helped him off the floor and had carefully repaired his nose. They hadn't said anything, but had the unspoken agreement not to discuss what had gone on, instead settling around each other as if it were routine.

Hermione had gone about making dinner and tea, leaving Harry to rest in the dining room, left alone with his thoughts. He was sure Hermione was thinking too, because the flat was deathly quiet, aside from the sound of her movement and china. Harry thought about the last time someone had broken his nose - Draco Malfoy on the Hogwarts Express. He had been Harry's enemy from the start and he had hated him then. But this time it hurt more. It hurt more to be punched by a friend - his best friend - who no longer wanted to see him. Harry would have cried but he felt too drained.

He thought about Ginny and the words she had thrown at him, meant to hurt him as she had been hurt by him. Harry felt them and yet the pain of their love did not pull him under, it was not strong enough. It was more the hurt of a sincere friend that he didn't want to lose. He didn't want to lose either of them.

His thoughts were interrupted when Hermione came through the door, clutching two steaming mugs of tea. Behind her, several plates and a pot roast floated in. Setting the tea down, she grabbed her wand from her pocket and directed the food to land softly on the table. She sat down at the seat at his elbow, but she didn't move to eat. Instead, she grabbed his hand and held it firmly. It felt warm and comforting and familiar.

Harry sighed. "I don't want to leave things the way they are," he told her, still looking into space before him. "I don't want to lose them." He saw Hermione nod from the corner of his eye.

"I know," she agreed softly. "But we have to give them time to heal. We have to let them know we respect their space."

"Right," Harry agreed, his thoughts settling. "We give them some time, but we send letters, we let them know that we're not going away, that we care about them - when they're ready to be friends again, we'll be there."

"Yes, we will," Hermione agreed. Her conviction gave him a new strength of will. He looked at her then. She was looking very seriously at him.

"You'll tell me what happened in there, with him?" Harry asked, ready to hear refusal. Hermione sighed. "Is it important to you?" Harry nodded. "Fine, I'll tell you - but after dinner. And only if you tell me what happened with Ginny."

"Of course," Harry agreed. Hermione looked placated. They stared at each other for a minute.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, an idea popping into his head. Hermione had started to dish food onto his plate. She stopped when she heard the tone of his voice.

"What is it?" she asked, gazing at him apprehensively. Harry grinned.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" Hermione lowered the spoon she'd been using to ladle the food. Harry watched as the corner of her mouth quirked into a wry grin. Her eyes twinkled at him. Slowly, she leaned over until their faces were inches apart.

"Yes, Harry, I would love too," she answered, her voice laced with a giddy undertone. Harry laughed at her attempt to be calm and collected and instead reached out his arms and seized her around the waist, pulling them both up. Hermione squealed when she felt her feet leave the floor. Harry pulled them away from the table and twirled them around. They were both laughing uncontrollably by the time Harry lost balance and sent them crashing to the floor.

Still giggling, Hermione trapped Harry's face between her hands and pulled his face to hers. Harry could see that her eyes were sparkling with joyful tears.

"Will you quit playing around and kiss my properly?" she laughed. Harry grinned.

"It would be my pleasure," he replied, and leaned up to seal the deal. Yes, the war was over. Yes, they were now on the outs with their dearest friends. Yes, their love was unexpected and disruptive, but it was strong and it was true. They knew that things could be a lot worse. They knew that their friends would come around. And in the end, everything would be okay, because they had each other now.


End file.
